Thanks for Nothing
by Canadino
Summary: First dates can either be heavenly or catastrophic...choose your pick. Spain/Romano, slight Germany/Italy


**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: --

**Minimal fluff 09!**

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Thanks for Nothing

It was tonight. Romano had taken a long bath (at Feliciano's insistence, saying that baths soothed your soul…or something deep that Japan might say), dressed as nicely as possible (locking his room when Feliciano protested that he had to look cuter), and attempted to clean the house (locking his brother out of the house when Feliciano tried to help and ended up breaking more things than putting them away). His nerves were crackling like a bushfire and god, he never realized how awkward hands were. Where should he put them, in his pockets (no, because he'd seem disinterested and bored)? If he left them hanging by his sides, he'd look boring.

Dammit, Spain.

Tonight was his first *official* (and although he didn't want to use the word) date with that stupid, air-brained, dense dark-haired nation. Yes, although it was rather surprising that Spain would use the word to ask him out, instead of beating around the bush with "Let's have dinner, nation-to-nation!", he had said, "Let's go on a date, Romano! Me and you!". Spain was those kinds of people that if you abused too much, you felt as if you were kicking a puppy in the face. So, against his better judgment and kindheartedness, Romano had agreed.

And Spain was forty-five minutes late in picking him up. _And_ that was not because Spain was picking out flowers or something sappily romantic like that.

"Sorry, I fell asleep and I just woke up."

This was going to be one bad date. Romano knew it when they started out walking and it started _raining_ of all things. Raining.

Neither of them brought an umbrella. But it was a nice misty kind of rain and Spain insisted that fresh air was healthy for Romano, who usually stayed cooped up in his house. So, despite being fully drenched after about ten minutes, the two were still walking side by side on that goddamn road. Spain had started rambling on about nothing and it suddenly struck Romano that they were walking rather closely and Spain hadn't even tried to hold his hand yet.

Trying to gesture and hint at his intention, Romano had to flat out state his expectation before Spain would realize it. "Spain, hold my hand, dammit!"

"Eh?" Although it was late, Spain reached over and grasped his hand, warm and comforting. On all other occasions, Romano would have pulled away and puked his guts out, but today he'd try and hold back his homicidal tendencies that arose during particularly mushy times.

Of course, knowing Spain, that wasn't likely to happen. When they finally arrived at their destination (Romano noted that it was probably a waste of time to actually take a bath, since he was sopping wet now), Romano was a bit irked to know that it was a quant little café. He hadn't been expecting a grand, fancy restaurant (because then it would probably have been France in disguise), but…well…he was expecting something more extraordinary. Turning to Spain and opening his mouth to give the dense nation a piece of his mind, he was silenced when Spain wiped out a brilliantly red rose.

"Sorry it's late. I was going to give you this at your house, but I was late to begin with."

"Idiot, I know you keep things like this in your back pocket. It's nothing special, dammit."

Spain shrugged and gently pulled him into the café, and Romano was horrified to see his brother and Germany sitting at a table. At sight of his older brother, Feliciano stood up, knocking his chair over loudly.

"Onii-chan! Onii-chan! Over here! Sit over here!"

"Why is _he _here?!" Romano hissed, attempting to hide his face with the rose. Spain shrugged again, looking genuinely as surprised as he was, and Romano pulled his hand out of Spain's grasp. He had pride to uphold, dammit, and he wasn't going to be seen _holding hands_ with Spain. Honestly.

"Onii-chan!" Noticing that he wasn't any reaction, Feliciano took actions in his own hands and bounced over to the door. "Onii-chan, didn't you hear me? Come sit with me and Germany, alright? Nii-chan, is that alright with you?" Feliciano turned to Spain, who was beginning to agree when Romano broke in.

"Stupid utouto, I'm on a _date_ and I don't need you and _Germ_any to ruin it for me." Hell, he sounded rather disgusting and selfish, but didn't he deserve to be selfish, just for a bit (alright, his entire life)? And it wasn't like he treated his brother any differently on a daily basis.

"Eh?!" Feliciano's eyes widened. "Oh! I forgot! I'm so sorry, onii-chan."

"Great. Now get out, and take Germany with you."

"Don't be mean to your brother, Romano. Of course you can stay, Ita-chan."

Romano glared at Spain with a 'choose-between-me-or-this-idiot-here' expression. "I'm not eating in a room with my brother and Germany. If he's there, I'm leaving."

Spain had ties with the restaurant owner, so he was able to get the little booth in the kitchen. Romano was about to storm out then and there before Spain pointed out that Feliciano and Germany was behind a set of doors so he technically wasn't in the room. Romano grudgingly stayed and they began eating.

This was becoming such a crappy date. Not only could he not hear what Spain was saying (half of him didn't really care), but he had to watch out for the chefs who ran around holding vats of hot oil. Romano was opting for the option of eating quickly and spending the rest of the date elsewhere, when a waiter walked by with a ring sitting on top of whipped cream.

Romano's heart nearly leaped out of his throat as Spain flagged the waiter down. "Hey, sir, is that for someone outside?"

"Yes, it's for a table with a hyperactive young man and a stoic young man."

He should have known.

"That's not original enough!" Sliding out of the booth with a, "It'll only take a minute, Romano, sorry," Spain grabbed the cake and started conversing with the waiter on proposing techniques. That was all fine and dandy, but then Spain left with the waiter to the tables and Romano didn't really want to look out to see when he heard his brother cry out and a loud crashing of a table as Feliciano tackled Germany. Another waiter walked by the kitchen booth and Romano flagged him down.

"Alcohol. I don't care what. I just need some. _Now._"

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When Spain returned to the booth half an hour later (Germany and Italy had left, Feliciano already sporting the engagement ring), Romano was already half-way smashed. Deciding not to be left out, Spain partook in downing alcoholic beverages as well.

There was no car, thank the heavens, because both nations were utterly intoxicated as they stumbled out of the café, the manager looking at them worriedly. Spain was singing a serenade loudly in the deserted streets, stepping in puddles and holding up a tottering Romano, who was cursing under his breath. They were a rather awkward pair and couples who had taken the night to stroll quickly crossed to the other side of the road.

"Romano, did you have a good time?" Spain asked, as he supported the latter when he fell. "It was fun, right? Seeing Germany propose to your brother…ah, Ita-chan…finally getting married…"

"Fun?" Romano spat. "_Fun_? You expected me to have _fun_ at that hellhole? Dammit, you should be glad I didn't walk out on you already, Spain!"

"Eh~? What's wrong? Are you mad?"

In response, Romano shoved Spain. This happened when they were walking over a small cliff and Spain, not being as balanced on his feet if he had been sober, toppled over the railing, grabbing Romano with him. Letting out a yell, the two of them fell through the stubby bushes into a puddle at the bottom of the small cliff, Spain's back being strong enough to cushion the fall.

Laughing, Spain rested his head on a nearby rock, letting an arm drape lazily on Romano, who was sprawled out on top of him, clutching at his shirt. The both of them were dripping wet yet again, not to mention scratched and scuffled. "Are you mad?" Spain asked again, his voice slurring a bit.

"Mad? Of course I'm mad, dammit!" Romano attempted to sit up, but it was too hard as everything was starting to spin. Too much wine…too much in too little of time. "It was supposed to be a _date_, dammit, and you spent half the time with my _brother and Germany_. I wouldn't really care any other time, but you _said_ it was supposed to be a _date_, Spain…I was looking forward to it, dammit! So yes, I'm mad as hell." Sighing and willing his innards not to spill out of his mouth (his head was beginning to pound annoyingly), Romano rested his head on Spain's shoulder, wishing he was sober enough to beat the crap out of the man.

"Ooh." Spain elongated the sound so long that Romano couldn't help but reach up and smack him across the head. "I'm sorry, Romano. I didn't think you'd take it that seriously so I thought I wouldn't take it that seriously. Let's forget about tonight, alright? I'll take you out some other time, properly."

"You'd better, dammit."

"I didn't know you _wanted_ to go out on a date with me, Romano. Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?"

"It's not something I readily admit, you stupid idiot."

Spain laughed, a cheerful ringing sound in the darkness and they felt silent, lying in the dirt covered with water and leaves. Only a few minutes past by but Romano felt it was enough for him to comfortably fall asleep on Spain. Then his brother ruined it yet again.

"Ah!! Onii-chan! What're you doing down there? Is it comfortable? Can I join you?"

"Italy, it's obvious they fell down. Are you two alright?"

"Germany!" Spain called. "How's married life?"

"We're not married yet, but thank you Spain. Would you like some help coming back up here?"

A devilish idea formulated in Romano's head and a sly smirk grew on his face. Luckily, Germany didn't see it in the darkness. "Oh, yes, Germany," Romano called, rather clearly. "Can you come help me up?"

"I can help you up, Romano."

"Shush, Spain, you're drunk, I'm drunk. Drunk people can't help drunk people." Romano waited until Germany had slid down the drop, with Italy fretting above. "Easy now," Germany muttered, holding out a hand to Romano. "One up at a time."

"Thanks," Romano said, letting himself be helped up by Germany before puking out his guts on the German's uniform.

Owari

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Note: I know none of you saw that coming. I really, really, REALLY love writing for this pairing. I love writing Romano tsudere-ness, and I hope you like it too. Although most of my Spain/Romano fics orbit around a dense Spain. I hope you like this one too. Italy (I refer to N Italy as Italy and S Italy as Romano, in case you haven't noticed) really ruins a lot of moods. You would think I would be dishing out tons of USUK with that level of tsudereness as well…but it's different. Spain liking Romano is squintingly canon. USUK are more of a love-hate kind of relationship going on. I don't know. I'm not going to explain. Review and favorite, if you'd like, or I'll throw a drunken, hurling Romano at you as well!!!


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